


Nurture and Heal

by SimonBlackchill



Series: Zenyatta and Genji's travels together [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Cleaning, Comfort, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Genyatta - Freeform, Genyatta Zine, Loving and nurturing Genji, M/M, Other, Robot Feels, Robot/Human Relationships, Robots, True Love, Vulnerability, Vulnerable Zenyatta, Zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 15:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14835032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimonBlackchill/pseuds/SimonBlackchill
Summary: Genji and Zenyatta have been caught in a sandstorm in the course of their travels. They have to take refuge in a guesthouse until the sandstorm goes away. During this stay, Zenyatta starts to cough severely, and it falls upon Genji to help him clean his insides from all the sand and debris to prevent Zenyatta from overheating and thus damaging his insides. Genji comes face-to-face with the fact that his partner is, in fact, a robot.This fic was written for volume 2 of "We Walk In Harmony",a genyatta fan zine.





	Nurture and Heal

The structures of the guest house had cracked here and there during the years, and its walls let wind whistle through holes in it in a high-pitched monotonous melody. Genji could remove his mask finally and breathe air that was not filled with flying sand particles or filtered by his respirator. He leaned back and pressed the back of his head against the wall. But what could have been a peaceful afternoon was disturbed by metallic hiccup sounds from the other side of the room.

Zenyatta did try his best to not cough too loud, for worrying his student was truly among the last things he ever wanted. The feeling in his circuits however was too strong to bear. Eventually he pressed his hand over his chest, letting out a few more coughs that to a human sounded either like coughs or hiccups.

“Master?” Genji asked. His voice without the mask had no echo of the amplifier that usually made his quiet voice louder. Without it, his voice was still certain and by no means a peep or a whisper, but it lacked the panache and volume of the mask's microphone and loudspeaker. Zenyatta was attuned to his voice even when the sandstorm outside made a loud racket in the structures of the building.

“Yes, Genji?” Zenyatta asked. The orbs around his neck made one lap around him and returned tightly against his lower jaw again. Genji's lips parted and he got up.

“You sound, uh...” Genji scratched his temple and tried to find the right word. Even after years he was not always sure about the right vocabulary the omnics preferred.

“Congested?” Zenyatta said.

“Yeah.”

“You have heard me like this b-”

The rest of Zenyatta's sentence was taken over by a loud combination of a gust of wind, coughs, and his cooling fans accelerating. Genji wrinkled his brow. The creases on his scarred forehead deepened, as did his worry.

“I have,” Genji said when the noises quieted down. “But then there was someone who could have taken care of it.”

“I appreciate your worry.”

“Of course I worry,” Genji said. “I don't want my master to spontaneously combust in the middle of a mission.”

“It is not spontaneous if there is a good reason for it.”

The dark comment made the corners of Genji's lips draw towards the floor. Zenyatta was quick to realize the severity of his joke, and he waved his hands in the air.

“Please do not take that one seriously.”

“I could help you, you know, Master.”

“Help me?”

“I've never done it, but I've seen how it's done. I can clean you so we can get going tomorrow without you being in pain.”

Zenyatta marveled at Genji's insight and empathy. The marvel morphed into fondness within him, and it circled the discomfort and pain the congestion brought to his every wire and every joint. The marveling, however, caused a silence that made skin on the back of Genji's neck crawl and suddenly he felt like the most unreliable person on the planet.

“I'm sorry for intruding your privacy like that, Master, I did not mean... I might not even be good enough to do that…”

“Please, Genji. I would appreciate it greatly.”

“I don't want to break you or anything.”

“I have all the tools you might need,” Zenyatta said and patted the satchel he had hanging from his belt, in the folds of his baggy trousers. “A damp cloth and an air duster should do.”

Genji gulped and looked down at his hands. The clunky armor that covered his fingers and the thick protective fabric on his palms, the glowing green of his robotic parts, he was fine with it all. But would he be able to be gentle?

While Zenyatta dug out his satchel, Genji recalled the time he had seen Zenyatta being cleaned at the Shambali temple. Zenyatta had insisted on Genji staying while they discussed something, to continue the conversation as if nothing out of the ordinary had been going on. All Genji could have looked at had been the floor.

Then Genji had looked away out of respect. Now he knew he would have to look, head-on, and Zenyatta knew it as well. Genji's human heart that possessed the weaknesses his cybernetic body did not beat all the way up in his throat.

Zenyatta stood – or floated higher than just barely above his seat – and directed his orbs towards the floor. Genji cleared his drying throat and took a step towards Zenyatta, who stopped him at his tracks with a halting motion of his hand.

“Master?”

“Please...”

Zenyatta placed his hands over his chest. His fingers curled slowly, as if clasping something against himself. Bashfully he lowered his chin and subtly pointed at the door of their room with his fingertip.

“Do make sure no one is coming. I would not want to, ah, appear naked to a stranger.” He straightened his legs a little, and the orbs on the floor spun slowly around the spot above which he hovered. “I would not wish to embarrass them.”

“I understand, Master.”

Genji pulled the curtains that worked as a door to the room and looked around the corridor. While Zenyatta found space for them both on the bed of the room, he let himself sink deeper into his thoughts. Zenyatta reached into the Iris for a brief moment and with its allowance, he let the orbs rest on the floor. Against the concrete, the hollow metal made beautiful sounds that did not echo in the room filled with fabrics.

The nine consecutive sounds grounded him. He had nothing to fear.

Genji turned around and gave Zenyatta a brilliant smile. The nervousness the Iris had told Zenyatta about was nowhere to be seen.

“Shall we get to it, then?”

Zenyatta nodded and handed the tools over to his student. “Yes, Genji. We shall. Let me first show you how the air duster works.”

* * *

After a few failed attempts at using the air duster first on the joints of his own fingers, Genji finally got the hang of the tool. It pleased Zenyatta to see Genji take extra care as to not hurt his master, and with an easy mind Zenyatta let himself sit down on the surface of the bed in the room. Zenyatta lowered the waist of his trousers and revealed some of his lower back so that Genji could get in there. Genji let Zenyatta cough a few times before he started.

With a damp cloth in one hand and the air duster in the other, Genji bowed closer to Zenyatta and sat on the bed right in front of him. He brought the duster forward and slid the thin end of it under the chest plate. His enhanced vision was perfect for these tasks, for he could see shapes even when they lurked within shadows.

Zenyatta giggled. Genji leaned back and blinked rapidly.

“Oh no, no no, do not mind that,” Zenyatta said and waved his hand in the air with a dainty flick of the wrist. “It merely tickles.”

“I'll remember that, Master,” Genji said mischievously. It lightened the mood of the situation, and Genji began working his way through Zenyatta's parts. First he would give a few sprays of the air duster to parts that could not be reached with the cloth. Then after some of the dust had settled on to a wipeable surface, he would wipe it off. It was a simple procedure.

“I saw someone do this to you at the monastery, didn't I,” Genji said as he wiped the surface of what was Zenyatta's chest plate, similar to a human solar plexus. “To others as well. I've observed.”

“Mmm, as you should have. Perhaps they wanted you to do it to one of them some time.”

“To earn my position there?”

“Maybe,” Zenyatta said. The touch tickled not in the same way as it would have tickled a human, but the very thought of Genji's hands being so intimately against his metallic surfaces made the omnic want to giggle.

“I never got to do it,” Genji pointed out.

“Now you do get to. Though you will not earn anything with it.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Fair enough. You will earn experience, and even more of my trust.”

Genji made his way up to Zenyatta's shoulders as they continued their somewhat idle chatter. He gave Zenyatta the room to cough here and there and he went to clean the cloth, carefully squeeze it dry. He had wiped Zenyatta's face before to get rid of his own lip marks and fingerprints from the surface. Genji grinned at the memory.

When Genji returned, Zenyatta gave himself the command to loosen the large screws on the sides as well as the small ones. With a quiet squeak, they gave way.

“Oh my, these parts could use some oiling,” Zenyatta said, and put his fingertips around the screws. 

Genji sat down in front of him again and shook the air duster can in his hands.

“Should you shut down or something?” Genji asked. Quickly, he waved his hand in the air as he realized how crass it sounded. “I mean, go to sleep mode maybe. The other monks did during the cleaning.”

“Ah yes,” Zenyatta said. “It helps to not feel the tickling of the air flow.”

“You can trust, Master, that I will not do anything while you sleep.”

“It is kind of you to say that, Genji. However, I prefer being mindful of what is happening around me.”

“Are you afraid?” Genji asked.

“Of you?” Zenyatta said.

“Of sleeping,” Genji said. “Because I can understand that.”

Zenyatta stared in a silence that, while not uncomfortable, made Genji partially regret he had said something like that. It did end in a chuckle from Zenyatta, but left Genji wondering nonetheless.

“Heedfulness is one of your greatest strengths.”

The screws clicked when Zenyatta twisted them back, and his face plate plunged about a centimeter forward. Genji's heart skipped a beat, his mouth dried. He tried to not show it, to not make it into a big deal. But this, this if anything was a big deal. It was as big of a deal as it had been when Genji had first changed his armor from what Blackwatch had provided him with to the one he wore now. When he had shown himself to Zenyatta without his mask for the first time.

Zenyatta pulled the plate off of his face. Slowly, shyly, he lowered the plate and let his hands rest on his lap. Genji's lips parted, but when he found his teeth clicking together once or twice, he sealed them and tried to relax the clenching jaw muscles.

Genji had not expected that so many of Zenyatta's parts could be moved around. In fact, he did not usually think about the fact that much like himself—which had caused him a lot of angst—Zenyatta could be disassembled. Zenyatta had not been born, but assembled from manufactured pieces. He was a machine designed by humans, built by machines. And while Genji himself was mostly designed and manufactured by humans as well, he had still been born. He had been born with skin to cover him, with no need to specifically be booted up.

The omnic in front of him was, well, just that. He was an omnic. An omnic robot who only now was fully naked in front of Genji. Dust and sand-covered fine wires, the colors of which had been worn out by the struggles Zenyatta had been through during the years. He was as sophisticated and sentient and aware of his own vulnerability as omnic robots came.

Zenyatta lowered his jaw and fiddled with the edges of the face plate. Genji stared at the two cameras that were usually hidden behind the slits that acted as eyes. Nine small lamps protruded from the inner parts of Zenyatta's so-called brain and the camera lenses had a tiny bit of smudge on them. The removed face plate also revealed Zenyatta's loudspeaker—his “mouth”. It was a round shape where on a humanoid face there would have been a nose and a mouth, and its bottom part touched the golden lower jaw.

“Is it everything you ever hoped for?” asked Zenyatta with humor. His voice did not have its usual echo without the metallic cover, but it was louder, and that startled Genji somewhat. He expressed it with a nervous laughter. Genji did not want to look like he was staring, but what else was he supposed to look at?

“It does satisfy my curiosity,” said Genji, and his smile could be heard from his voice. It was a smirk Zenyatta found so charming, it loosened him up. Of course, his shoulders still crept upwards, towards the large screws on the sides of his head. Even his usually so straight posture slumped forward.

“Do not think I am ashamed of what I am,” Zenyatta said. He felt the need to clarify that what he had taught Genji all these years had not stemmed from lies and self-deceit. “It is only the excitement of the first time, that is all.”

Genji brought his hand forward and slid his fingers behind the back of Zenyatta's head, cupping it neatly in his palm. He secured Zenyatta in place and took notice of the omnic’s relaxing shoulders.

“I understand, Master.”

The cameras moved to look into one of Genji's eyes, then the other, much like humanoid eyes would have. Zenyatta let himself relax in Genji's hold, and a long, loud sigh came from his loudspeaker. Without the echo, his voice sounded earthly. It lacked the divinity, the sage-like quality it usually had. Though maybe, just maybe, Genji would have perceived it to be gone anyhow. Who knew?

Genji shook the can and pointed the thin end of it right at the top of Zenyatta's forehead. He slid it between the upper parts and then came to a realization.

“Ah, darn it, I should have started from the top.”

“Why so?”

“Now all the dust will fall down.”

“Oh, we can wipe it up later.” Zenyatta waved his hand in the air. “A minor mishap. It did not occur to me either.”

Zenyatta's carefree response forced Genji to face something strange. As usual, he voiced this line of thought, he did so as he gave the first few bursts of air. His voice was quiet, so he spoke only when he was not pushing the button.

“A paradox,” he said.

“What kind of paradox?” asked Zenyatta.

“Okay, I don't know if paradox  _per se_ ,” Genji worked his way from top of the forehead, the wires behind the cameras, towards the center of the face. “Maybe…maybe an interesting…something…”

“Something?”

“I'm not as verbose as you are, Master. You say you didn't consider a technical aspect of cleaning yourself, but you are a machine. Something that's expected to think of every aspect of things. To calculate every outcome.”

“I am not exactly the most calculating type.”

Genji laughed, as softly as he touched. “I guess you can't calculate every outcome then.”

“Ah, but do you expect me to?”

“The world expects you to. I was raised to agree.” Genji's gaze moved keenly on Zenyatta's face, on the wires and lamps and the lenses of the cameras, the smooth surface of the loudspeaker.

“This one I did not calculate,” said Zenyatta as his joints relaxed. Truth be told, there were many a thing he could not have calculated.

Zenyatta could not have counted the sum total Genji's acceptance towards the raw technology before his eyes. He could not have put together the matrix that would have showed him the exact gentleness and care with which Genji cleaned him with. He could not have composed the schematic about Genji's soft cyborg hands and the warm reassurance in his eyes.

“I did not calculate how right I would be when I told you that killing hands could nurture. That fighting hands would heal.”

Genji blinked a few times, remembering times when his hands had been nothing but rough. His lips parted when he tried to think of something to say in return.

“I'm human, after all,” Genji said, whispered. His hand slid to Zenyatta's bare cheek, his thumb ghosting on some wires twisting beneath it. “I cannot be calculated.”

Zenyatta pressed his hand on the back of Genji's palm. He knew that one wrong move could have torn his inner workings apart. But Genji, while quick and rash, would do no such thing.

“I do not even want to calculate you – but to know you.”

Genji memorized everything he saw in that moment. Every worn wire and every dusty nook and every curve he cleaned with the cloth in his hands. And with that, he memorized the fact that despite the belief he himself from another time had held, he could, indeed, nurture and heal.


End file.
